


Hard Truths

by aerialsky



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Klingon, Klingon Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:29:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7439341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerialsky/pseuds/aerialsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven visits B'Elanna shortly after the events that occurred in the episode, Nothing Human.</p>
<p>This is a short exploration of B'elanna's feelings about the use of the Crell Moset holoprogram to save her life. In particular, I wanted to explore some of B'Elanna's beliefs that come from Klingon culture.  Plus, I wanted to write about Seven and B'Elanna's fledgling friendship because I think these two are awesome together and have so much to share with each other.  <br/>I've tagged this story as Janeway/Torres because it is mentioned in the story as a fairly integral plot point, however, it is definitely a peripheral part of the story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to @cosmic_llin for beta-ing! I've added some stuff after the final beta like the naughty writer I am, so if there are any mistakes, they are definitely all mine!!

The door chime sounded, and B’Elanna wondered if Janeway had come back after uncharacteristically walking out on her earlier.  The Captain’s pained expression was fresh in her mind but she was still too angry to think about its deeper meaning.  Right now, the Captain’s pain was a dim flicker of a flame in comparison to the raging fireball of anger that B'Elanna was stoking.  The chime sounded again.

 “Come!  But I warn you, I am NOT in the….”  B’Elanna trailed off as she saw Seven enter.  “Seven!  I… thought you were the Captain, or Chakotay… or, look, I’m not really in the mood for guests right now.”

“That is understandable.”  Seven looked around briefly before stepping further into the room.  “May I?” she asked, indicating the sofa.

“Sure,” B'Elanna replied, still somewhat bewildered at Seven’s presence.  This was new.  Seven didn’t visit her.  Hell, Seven didn’t sit down. Yet, here she was.

“I…” Seven faltered.  “I thought you might want to talk about what occurred.”

“Well, I don’t!”  B’Elanna saw Seven’s crestfallen expression and immediately regretted her outburst.  Judging by how awkward she looked, it was clear that it had taken a Herculean effort for Seven to just come here.  “I mean, it’s just difficult for me to talk about.”

“I understand.  In fact, that is why I am here.  I felt that I perhaps understand what you are going through better than anybody else on board.  I wondered if this shared experience might serve to… aid me in supporting a friend.  If I was in error, however, I will leave.”  Seven started to rise, but was stopped by a tentative touch to her hand. 

“Seven.  I’m sorry.  I appreciate what you’re doing.  If you think you can stand me and my anger, then… I’d be glad if you stayed.”  B’Elanna attempted a weak smile and squeezed Seven’s hand to try to convey her sentiment and, frankly, convince herself of it too.

“May I enquire what you are burning?”

“It’s a Klingon remedy.  A mental relaxant and expeller of demons.”  B’Elanna sat and her gaze fell on the smoke rising to the ceiling in faint wisps. 

“Is it helping?” Seven asked earnestly.

B’Elanna whipped around to face Seven, expecting to sense a challenge or derision, but was met with a look of genuine curiosity.  “Well, it helps me.”

“In what way?”

“Are you really interested in Klingons burning stuff to make them feel better?!”  B’Elanna snorted.

“No.  I am interested in what makes you feel better.”

“Oh.  OK.  Well, you see, my mother used to follow a lot of Klingon traditions.  She used this incense in times when she needed to, ah, expel demons, I guess.  I remember she used it a lot around the time she and my dad were fighting and after he left.” B’Elanna’s expression darkened.  “I remember, she’d tell me that she was going to cleanse the air of the sorry petaQ that was my father.  As you can imagine, I hated this stuff as a kid.  I mean, I didn’t really understand what demons we were supposed to be expelling after all, plus as far as I could tell it was all the Klingon stuff that had driven him away in the first place.  Anyway, it was when I joined the Maquis that I finally understood the meaning of the word demons.” 

B’Elanna paused and let out a long breath.  She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands.  Seven shifted slightly to face her.  Her own experience of dealing with turbulent emotions had taught her that B’Elanna needed a sounding board and space. Seven vowed to provide just that.  She remained still, levelled an even, open gaze at B'Elanna and waited. 

“You know, when I learned about the Moset hologram, God, I could feel the bile rising in my throat!  Now, there’s a sorry petaQ!” B’Elanna rose to pace around the room.  She could feel the familiar well-spring of emotion swell inside.  Her anger flashed through her body lending momentum to her furious agitation and quickening her stride.  “All the things he did!  They used to tell us about Cardassians like him to get our blood boiling, prime us for the fights ahead.  ARGH!”  B’Elanna picked up a PADD and hurled it at the wall.  “Sorry,” she said, looking over at Seven.

“Please, do not apologise.”

“He had NO honour.  None!  And now, his dishonour has been cast upon me!”  B’Elanna paced angrily before finally flopping back down on the sofa next to Seven.  She laughed.  “Oh, if my mother could see me now.  Fired up about my honour.  She might even finally be proud of me.” 

B’Elanna looked down at her hands.  “You know, I threw it all in her face once.  Klingon honour, everything about being Klingon.  I hated it so much.  Resented it.  And I told her so.”  Torres looked up at Seven.  “Then, I walked out of her life and never looked back.  Or, at least that was what I thought.  But, you know, it was her honour, her culture, no, our honour and our culture that kept me sane when I was in the Maquis.  And in the Maquis, my job was to kill Cardassian petaQs like Moset!  Not be treated by him!”

Finally, Seven spoke.   “You believe using the scientific knowledge acquired by Moset to be immoral.”

“Of course I do!” B’Elanna spat.

“Even if that usage is to save a life.”

“It doesn’t matter, Seven.  The way he gained that knowledge was unacceptable.” B’Elanna stood again to pace.  “And then, for the Captain to waltz in here and basically say I was ship’s business…”  B’Elanna slammed a fist down onto her table. “She came in here, all Captainly, and ordered me to get over it.  Can you believe that?!  I think that might almost be what hurts the most.”

B’Elanna looked over at Seven.  Some of the earlier unease had returned to her expression and she hesitated to reply.  

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t drag you into my mess with the Captain,”  B’Elanna said with a sigh.

“Please, do not apologise... B’Elanna.  I am here to listen to anything you have to say.  Please, continue.”

B’Elanna looked at Seven for a beat, unsure exactly what to say, before resuming her pacing.  “I need a drink.  You want anything?”  She walked over to the replicator and began to punch in the commands for a beer. 

Seven sensed that she might extend her solidarity by sharing a beverage, a tradition she had observed to be of significance to the other crewmen on board.  “I will… have whatever you are having.” 

If she was surprised at Seven’s choice, B’Elanna did her best not to show it.  This was turning out to be an evening of firsts where she and Seven were concerned.  Sure, they’d been getting on better lately, but this was an unprecedented level of closeness.  She paused, looking over at Seven with a new-found appreciation, before finalizing the order for two beers, bringing them over and sitting down.

“If I may, I’d like to propose a toast,”  Seven tentatively suggested, unsure if this was the right moment for such a thing. “B’Elanna Torres.  We did not have the most auspicious of beginnings.  However, I have come to greatly value you as a highly skilled and competent engineer, but most of all, as a friend.  I have also come to realise that we live in a universe where morality is rarely black and white, rather a complex grey area with room for debate, analysis, and interpretation.  The ramifications of your ordeal are manifold and profound, and I admit that I myself am struggling with the ethics contained therein.”  Seven took a deep breath.  “What I can be sure of, is that that grey area is the reason you are here before me, alive and well, and for that, I am truly glad.  Your continued existence is a thing of great value, which I feel should not be overlooked when considering what occurred.  So, B’Elanna, I would like to toast this opportunity I have been given to continue our friendship.”

B’Elanna was stunned.  “I.. Seven, I don’t know what to say… thank you.”  She raised her glass to meet Seven’s before taking a healthy swig.

A short silence hung in the air as she gathered her thoughts.  “I am glad to be alive, I guess.”

“You sound uncertain.”

“It’s just causing me to face some uncomfortable truths.  My mother instilled Klingon culture in me as best as she could, and some of it definitely stuck.  I mean, had this been a Klingon ship, there’s no way the Captain would have desecrated my honour in such a way.  Getting killed by a giant bug isn’t exactly the honourable death in battle that Klingons strive for, but it is preferable to the dishonour of running away from death and using a sworn enemy’s expertise to do so.  I’m alive, but a part of me feels like my soul has taken one step closer to Gre'thor.”  B’Elanna smiled wryly.   “It’s funny. My mother dragged me kicking and screaming to Qo’noS shortly after my father left.  I steadfastly refused to take part in all the Klingon stuff my family seemed to love so much.  But now… now, I don’t know what to think.”

B’Elanna drained her glass, put it on the table and sat back heavily onto the couch. 

“It’s all too raw, that’s all.  I get a letter telling me that the Maquis have been slaughtered or imprisoned by the Cardassians and here I am, getting medical treatment from one!  I just don’t know how to reconcile that.  The Maquis were like family. They valued me when I didn’t even value myself.”

She ran her fingers lightly over her forehead, outlining each ridge.  “I hated my ridges as much as I hated the culture once.  I used to wish I could just be human… but, you know, I run to her in times of need and she always pulls me through: killing Cardassians with my bare hands, escaping a Vidiian prison, hell, even pulling a double shift in Engineering when we’re almost dead in the water… she’s always her there, by my side, urging me on, telling me I can do it.  And then, when everything’s alright again, I push her away as if I’m ashamed.” 

“Are you ashamed?”  Seven asked cautiously.

“No!  Well, yes.  Oh God, I don’t know!  I know I shouldn’t have to be!”  B’Elanna squeezed her eyes closed in frustration.

“I’ve come to realise that knowing we shouldn’t have to be ashamed and feeling ashamed are two separate things that can co-exist in us.”  Seven spoke softly.

“Like I said, I’ve fought with this all my life.  My father left us because it all got a little too Klingon for his liking.  Starfleet didn’t appreciate my… ‘enthusiasm for debate’ as one instructor called it.  Those are just two examples of when my Klingon nature got me kicked out or lost me something I held dear.  Then I found the Maquis and with them, somewhere to channel my energy, my anger.  I had a cause.  I was taking action where the Federation feared to tread.  I didn’t care if I died in battle back then because I didn’t have anything else to live for.” 

“So there I was, planting bombs and plunging knives into Cardassian petaQs’ chests, living as an outlaw, fighting Cardassian occupation.  Starfleet considered us traitors and terrorists, but we thought they’d betrayed us, left us to be the front line against the encroaching threat.  I left behind the comfort of Starfleet’s beds and their ideals and joined the fight.  That’s the time I felt most comfortable in my skin, amongst that band of misfit outlaws.  Truth be told, the Maquis didn’t care who or what you were, we were all disparate souls united by the same cause.  And that cause was so immediate, so all-consuming… our focus was directed out at something beyond us, we didn’t have time to even think about who we were.”

B’Elanna fell silent.  Seven went over to the replicator, ordered two more beers and returned to the couch.  

“It’s important not to glorify those days though.  Innocent people got hurt.  The Maquis went too far sometimes, the Cardassians retaliated twofold and it got messy, real messy.  Too many good people died.  Too many Cardassian civilians died for that matter.” B’Elanna reached over for her beer and raised her glass.  “To those that got left behind.”

“To those that got left behind,” Seven echoed with sincerity.

“I can see how you may derive strength from your Klingon heritage.  Reading their scriptures lent me a new perspective on their beliefs and way of life.  Many perceive Klingons to be motivated solely by violence and anger, however I now realise that is not the case.  That this negative connotation pervades is unsettling.”

“It’s something I was told a thousand times as a kid on Kessik IV, and although no-one actually said so at the Academy, it’s what they were thinking.  I just kinda internalized it too.  I’m almost certain no one would have thought that way or considered saying it to a full Klingon, but people could see my human heritage and that seemed to give them the idea that I could or should somehow control my Klingon side.  So I did.  Well, I tried.  I certainly put on a good show of disregarding everything Klingon even when I could see it cut my mother deeply.  My instructors, bar one, at the Academy seemed to prefer it when I managed to keep my temper in check and I got so used to doing so, that it actually became part of me. ”

B’Elanna leaned back and sighed.  Seven settled in deeper on the couch too and laid her hand over B’Elanna’s in silent support.  B’Elanna upturned her hand and took hold of Seven’s.

“I guess that’s why I shouldn’t be so hard on the Captain. It’s not like I hid my contempt for Klingon ideals from her. She was treated to that show just like everyone else on board Voyager.  It’s just that, despite all that, she’s actually one of the few people that see me as me.”  B’Elanna sat up a little straighter.  “She just refused to let me fail… didn’t let me fall back on years of bad habits and poor excuses.”

“It is this quality that makes her an exceptional captain.”

“And you know, I’m sure now that she actually saw through my façade.  She never said anything. She didn’t have to.  I just… feel comfortable around her, like… I’ve stopped hiding something… stopped pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“And an exceptional friend.”  Seven mused.

“So when she turned up here in full Captain mode, it was a little tough to take, you know?  We've been spending some good times together recently, some really good times.” B’Elanna smiled despite herself.  “I shared a few things with her that I had hardly told a soul.  I was even sure I was starting to see something of the real her.  And then she went and pulled that Captain crap and… it hurt.” 

Seven paused, unsure how to proceed, what to reveal.  She knew that the Captain had strong feelings for B’Elanna.

“I believe that Captain 'crap' you mention may have been the only way she could deal with the situation both professionally… and personally.”

“She didn’t seem to suggest there were any personal feelings involved when she was in here earlier.”  Seven felt B’Elanna tense up beside her.

“Precisely.”

“What are you saying?  She can just turn off her feelings at the flick of a switch when it suits her?” B’Elanna shot back.

“No.”  Seven looked stricken.  “I cannot speak on behalf of the Captain and, in this instance, it is not my place to elucidate her command decision.  Suffice it to say, she considered every variable, factor and nuance of the decision she had to make.”

“She read about Moset’s so-called work, the Maquis, the Occupation?”  B’Elanna spat.

“All of it.”

“And she still went ahead and approved the procedure?  That’s not making me feel any better, Seven.”

“I believe there is one variable you have neglected to consider that outweighs all the aforementioned.”

“And what would that be?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You.”  Seven looked at B’Elanna pointedly and waited for the penny to drop.

“You mean… are you saying that she saved my life because… of her personal feelings for me?”  B’Elanna’s expression was simultaneously one of realisation, disbelief and wonder.  “Kahless, why didn’t she say anything?”  She mumbled softly.

“It would seem to me that both of you need to talk about this particular variable.”

 


End file.
